We all want Ice Cream
by havelocke
Summary: It’s a hot day at Devil May Cry. [lady x dante] post DMC3.


**Note:** Heavily edited, hotter, and moved from an older profile.

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We all want Ice cream

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It was the hottest day of the year. With the day's scorching temperature rising well beyond the boiling point of the deepest level of hell, the atmosphere hung thick with humidity and the scent of sweat. 

A shirtless Dante leaned backwards onto the leather chair centered at his desk. He stared at the silent phone. It seemed that even the demons considered it too hot to go about disturbing the peace.

He didn't mind having the day off, but the heat was making the thought of relaxing comfortably unbearable. He hated it and he hated how his throat felt dry and itchy with thirst. He didn't like this type of heat that made his skin all sticky with sweat and made it impossible to sit still.

He peered forward, wincing as the leather, which had somehow melted onto his back, peeled off with a stinging slap.

He stood up with the intent of taking another cold shower, when the image of a scarcely clad Lady lying on her stomach on top of the pool table, stopped him from further movement. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes scanned the agile taunt figure hungrily.

Her creamy legs glistened under the filtered afternoon sun that came through the windows. His cerulean eyes traveled upwards, taking in every curve, and settled on her tight firm butt. He smirked as he read the special print on her booty shorts—'Place lips here'. He licked his own and circled his prey like a hungry wolf.

His heavy steps were ignored as she kept on flipping through her magazine aimlessly while she ate a bright red Popsicle.

Dante's mouth watered at the sight of the frozen treat. He wanted _it_and he couldn't decide why. Maybe it was because it looked enticing enough on its own as it stood erect against the heat or the fact that it was slowly being consumed and sucked by soft lips and a pink tongue. He decided that the latter was his answer as the thought of Lady taking in the popsicle into her mouth was enough for the hair on his arms to prickle up and spine to shiver with a sudden charge of electrical energy.

"What?" she asked, annoyed. Her lips were a bright cherry as they pouted angrily. He didn't know how he managed to stand in front of her.

His mind went dry as it tried to dig up a stream of coherent thoughts. But he couldn't stop thinking about Lady nor that ice cream.

"Um…." He mumbled and diverted his gaze onto the floor which suddenly became more interesting. He wasn't one to act all bashful at a moments notice and he sure as hell wasn't shy around her to censor himself. He blamed this out of character state on the heat.

He looked up and saw that Lady was now ignoring him. He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. He watched her slighted bowed head and stared at the dark fanned out lashes that gently tapped the tops of her cheeks when she blinked.

He focused on her lips, which were slowly parting, letting her tongue run down the length of the frozen treat. His mouth went dry as she took some of the popsicle in and gently it pulled out, mouth sucking greedily at the tip. The tip of her tongue ran over her lips, licking them of any lingering juice. He felt his cock twitch at the sight of her eating.

She sensed him watching, he could tell (he was standing in front of her light, but who's counting?) and glared at him with a pout.

"Well?" she asked, she propped herself up more and waited for him to answer.

He really was at a loss for words. How could he ask her to suck the living day lights out of that popsicle again and not get a bullet to the head? He decided to wink and smile at her. She raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. She went back to ignoring him again.

She was clearly playing hard to get, and two can play that game.

He turned on his heels and walked over to the refrigerator.

She wasn't the only one with sexual implications up her sleeve. He could, if he wanted to, commit an act of sexual seduction that would make her hot enough to want some of _his_ frozen treat.

He returned with a popsicle of his own and sat Indian style on the corner of the pool table. Dante un-wrapped the ice cream rather loudly, but Lady didn't budge.

The frozen treat glowed with an air of mist as the heat attacked its shell fervently. It quickly began to drip and he slurped what he could of the tangy juice. He relished at how the sweet juice trickled down his throat leaving behind a trail of tartness.

He almost forgot his motive for getting the ice cream until Lady cleared her throat. He didn't realize that she'd been watching him the whole time as she sat there in front of him.

He stopped when he saw her smirk; her bi-colored eyes were lit with amusement.

She hopped off the table. She came back after what seemed like seconds with a new red popsicle.

She gingerly pressed her lips along the ice cream. Her lips parted, taking in the popsicle, barely gagging when she reached its end, and pulled out so painfully slow, Dante almost moaned. He didn't notice that his own ice cream was dripping, the juice tracing mock veins down his wrist. She smacked her lips loudly, making Dante snap out of his trance.

He quickly realized what she was trying to do and looked at her with his own playful smirk.

They glared at each other, got their popsicles ready, and they were off.

With their lips smacking, tongues licking, mouths sucking and slurping what they could, they continued trying to out eat each other. Their competitive spirit took over and the foreplay was long gone. Dante moved swiftly, his experience in combat training had not prepared him for this situation, but he thought he was doing fine. As long as he avoided brain freeze he could win. He pushed the popsicle in too deep and before he knew it he was coughing and sputtering.

Lady abandoned her ice cream to pat the demon on the back. Dante gained his composure and looked up, expecting her to laugh.

Instead, she sighed and pressed her forehead to her. He was tempted to close in the distance and take her lips into his own.

"Stick to your day job," she said, smirking. He gave her a mock glare and she laughed.

"I'll show you how it's done."

She took one of his hands and picked out his middle finger. She guided the juice covered digit to her mouth and traced the out line of her lips. She opened her mouth, letting the tip of her tongue tease the tip of his finger before swallowing the digit whole. She pulled out slowly, sucking the finger dry of any juice left from the ice cream. She smiled at his bemused face.

"See, it's not that hard."

Dante swallowed.

If only she knew how hard _it_ actually was.

She pushed his down and he didn't protest. She straddled him and took hold of a popsicle. He felt the tip of the ice cream being traced over his chest and down towards his abdomen.

"How about we cool off?" she asked leaning over and tracing the ice cream over his lips. He really couldn't take it anymore. His groin was now aching for some release and the sight of her hard nipples through her shirt were making his lips quiver in hunger.

"Let's," he whispered huskily before catching her lips with his own.

She broke the kiss and sat up, grinding against his groin with a mischievous glint in her eyes. He sat up and slipped his hands under her shirt and took it off. He kissed her neck and she pressed her breasts against his chest, while slowly moving her hips. He grunted a moan and kissed trail down to her chest.

Needless to say, it became a very sticky situation afterwards.


End file.
